Perfect Timing
by Alenida
Summary: During the aftermath of Sarah Jane's abortive wedding, she finds herself wondering how the Doctor managed to show up at exactly the right time. He's never done that before... Sarah Jane/Tenth Doctor Spoilers for The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith.


**Disclaimer: **No, I still don't own anything, ever.

**A/N (the First): **So, I've just finished The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith, and I suddenly realize, hang on, the Doctor showed up before the Trickster did. In fact, his first few sentences make no mention of the Trickster at all...

**Perfect Timing**

"Don't forget me."

Sarah Jane halted at the entrance of the TARDIS. Luke, Rani, and Clyde were probably waiting for her, but they could wait for a few more minutes. She turned, letting the door shut behind her and leaning back against it.

"Oh, you," she said, though her voice was a little choked. "Doctor, no one could forget _you_."

The smile he gave her was very weak. "Well, of course," he said awkwardly. "Go on then, you'd better get out of here before your son starts to worry."

She reached for the door handle again, then paused once more. "Doctor…" she said slowly.

"Hmm?" His voice sounded cheery as always, but even in this incarnation whom she had only met twice before, she could hear the sharp, brittle edge in his voice. He was rubbish at hiding things from her; he always had been.

"You had rather…perfect timing today," she said.

"I always have perfect timing!" the Doctor retorted, and Sarah Jane started to laugh. She couldn't help it. It had been a terrible day, a truly awful day; the loss of Peter was still a fresh, open wound, but the thought of the Doctor having perfect timing was just too much. She sank backward against the door, her laughter perhaps a little hysterical, but it was good. The laughter was good. When she looked up, she wasn't sure if the tears in her eyes were from the laughter or not. The Doctor was looking quite miffed, an expression that reminded her forcibly of her curly-haired, long-scarfed Doctor.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "It's just…the thought of you having perfect timing. When did we ever end up somewhere you intended us to? And you dropped me off _months and miles_ out of sync with where I was supposed to be."

He had been looking more than ever like a sulky child, but the (frankly rather cute) expression dropped off his face at the mention of Aberdeen. He turned to the TARDIS controls. "But, no, honestly, you should go," he said roughly.

"Perfect timing," she said again. "I appreciate it, Doctor, I really do—but why this time? The children and I have been in danger before—often—twice now with the Trickster. Why didn't you come then? Why didn't you come when I nearly bollixed up the entire spacetime continuum trying to save my parents?"

"Sarah…"

"No, really. What was so special about _this_ time that you appeared out of the blue at exactly the right moment?"

The Doctor pressed his fingers into his forehead. "I didn't know," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I didn't know about the Trickster, that was just a lucky coincidence, I showed up because _you were getting married_, Sarah."

"What." Her voice came out a breathy, tiny squeak.

"I haven't been sleeping well, not since the Daleks and Donna, and," he waved a hand limply. "All of that, the last time we saved the world. Together. As usual. Like old times. I've been keeping tabs on you—on all of you—just flipping through scenes with the TARDIS' help. Haven't slept in, ooooh, must've been three days—four days?"

"That's not healthy, Doctor, not even for you."

"Yeah, yeah," he waved a hand. "I saw you getting married, Sarah. That's why I came."

She covered her face with her hands. "You mean—you didn't know about the Trickster?"

"Not until he started to materialize," the Doctor said wearily.

"You came to my wedding, to stop my wedding, not to rescue me, not to save me. You just came to stop the wedding."

"Yes."

"How dare you," she said, but her voice was curiously without emphasis.

"I don't know," he said. "I'm sorry. I'm really very sorry. I was so sleepy, and I suppose I—wasn't thinking straight."

She crossed the console room floor and stood beside him, looking down at him as he slumped over the controls—a peculiar sensation for someone as short as she was. She found herself reaching out to touch his cheek. "But you left me," she said, in a painful little whisper. "You _left_ me in Aberdeen and you never came back."

"I know."

"Why?" She found herself starting to pace back and forth, but stopped. Her hands were shaking, and suddenly everything seemed topsy-turvy, painful puzzle pieces of thought in her mind trying—failing—to fit together. "First you leave me, then forty years later you try to stop my wedding?"

He stood up suddenly and grabbed her shoulders, almost forcing her to look up at him. "I never meant to leave you," he said. "I never meant to—you were supposed to be safe, in 1980, _waiting for me_."

"What?"

"No, I'm sorry, I'm babbling, you know me, just a babbling babbler who babbles too much, ignore me, really, Sarah, you must go."

"I was supposed to be—what?"

He shook his head and wouldn't speak.

"You were going to come back for me—right away? Right away for _me_ I mean?"

He tried to shake his head, but he was nodding and there were tears in his eyes. "Then why didn't you?"

"Because I met you," he whispered. "Because Rose and I decided to take a holiday in two-thousand-whatever, and then, there you were, not safe in 1980 anymore, not safe at all. Alone. My Sarah Jane. Look what I'd done to you." He dragged in a savage breath. "Look what I do to everyone."

"You never meant to see me then," she whispered. "You never thought I would be there, you never thought you would run across me until you went back for me in 1980. But you did, and it—you couldn't go back on your own timeline."

She was shaking. It made sense. Such a funny sort of sense, such Doctor-ish logic. Leave your best friend behind so you always know you can come back for her, but don't remember that times aren't like places; a person can be found in many times, if you're not careful. Just like her Doctor. He hadn't abandoned her at all. Just like her parents.

He murmured something under his breath that she didn't catch. "You should go," he said again.

"You're going to leave me again?" she asked, her voice suddenly sharp.

"Sarah—I have to. I don't belong here."

"You really think I am going to let you go again?" Her voice was shaking. "You are _my Doctor_, Doctor. And you've been wandering all across space and time when you should have been coming home. To me. Even if it was a little late. Unless—" she laughed. "You think I'm too old, now, is that it?"

"Sarah Jane—never. But I—I've messed it all up now."

"Nonsense. Honestly, Doctor, you would think with your fascination with humans you would have learned a thing or two. Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'Better late than never'?" She gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder, a warm, funny, fuzzy sensation spreading through her stomach. "Stop this wallowing, Doctor. I think it's time you came for dinner."

"I can't. If I do this—there's no going back. I'll be in your life again, and I'll just ruin it. That's what I do. I ruin people."

"Nonsense. The only thing you've ever done that came _close_ to ruining my life was when you stepped out of it, and we can take care of that. We'll just mark off a section of the calendar—'Sarah Jane's Territory. Only Visit in Chronological Order.'"

She put her arms around him, quite suddenly. He was bonier than she remembered, though just about as tall, and he gave a deep, gasping, breathy sigh, and then he crushed his lips against hers—_god so fierce, Doctor, so possessive_—pressing her back against the console, and it was the last remaining, aching hole inside her. Filled. Gone, like a silly little cavity being filled in. _My Doctor. Your Sarah Jane. Always and forever, your Sarah Jane._

Her lungs were straining for air, and her back was definitely protesting by the time he let her go. She laughed and leaned into him. There was still some pain, now, the years of loneliness—_but you ended up with Luke, you wouldn't trade him, would you?_—the loss of Peter—but she nuzzled up into the Doctor's coat, and he rested his chin on her head and laughed again.

"Oh dear," she said. "I don't know if Luke and Rani and Clyde will be ready to handle this sort of thing from me again so quickly."

"I…could still go," the Doctor said, and again, she heard that funny, empty note in his voice. _So ready to push us away, now, Doctor. Oh, you never used to be like this, but then we've all of us changed, and you're so, so much older. So broken. _

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "You are going to come out with me, and we're going to have dinner with the children, and you are going to stop wandering around and being melodramatic and brooding and lonely. It really doesn't suit you, Doctor."

"But I—"

"Besides, you need a lie-down. Come on out and I'll set you up in the spare bedroom."

He opened his mouth, presumably another attempt to protest, and Sarah Jane stifled him by pressing her lips to his. "No, Doctor. No objections. This is your Sarah Jane telling you what is going to happen. You know it's dangerous not to listen to your best friend."

"Weeelll, I suppose…"

_Good enough._

She took his hand and practically dragged him out of the TARDIS, where, by now, Luke, Rani and Clyde were milling around nervously. "Do you think we ought to go in and check on them?" Luke was saying. "Oh, Mum, thank goodness!"

"The Doctor's just decided he'll be staying for tea," Sarah Jane said firmly.

The Doctor, looking extremely bemused, opened his mouth again.

"I've got a jar of jelly-babies around somewhere," Sarah continued, "and if you're especially good, Doctor, you may have one."

The mouth stayed open, and then he began to laugh, just as she had, a few moments earlier. He picked her up, spun her around, and set her down again, capturing a quick kiss on the lips. "You really are still my Sarah Jane," he said fondly.

"Oh my god, what just—did that just—" sputtered Clyde.

"Not _again_," moaned Rani.

Sarah Jane flushed, took the Doctor's hand again, and marched for the door of the attic. "I refuse to listen to these _scurrilous_ accusations," she said loftily, towing the Doctor out the door.

Luke's voice said, rather too loudly to be subtle, "Well, I liked Peter, but the Doctor's brilliant—is that awful of me?" There was a punching sound. "Ouch, Rani, what was that for?"

Sarah Jane found that she was laughing again. It seemed it was just that sort of evening.

**A/N (the Second):**

This is probably AU, though with Doctor Who, one can never really be SURE. I did spin off a bit from where The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith ended, but I expect it would slot in reasonably well, at least in terms of the ending of that episode. This is one of my pet theories (I'm such a hopeless romantic) for why the Doctor would just leave Sarah. And it really is just like him not to think of the possibility of accidentally running into her later in the timeline...


End file.
